


Grasp

by Nadler



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 NHL Season, Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadler/pseuds/Nadler
Summary: Juuse keeps getting hit on; Pekka's a handy excuse to get away from it, especially because he calls him Daddy.





	Grasp

**Author's Note:**

> Purely written because of a line that wouldn't leave my head. Also I'm bad at titles.

The Preds go out as a team. Well, mostly as a team. Sometimes the old men spread out at the hotel bar while the young guys head to something with more strobing lights and dancers. Today's one of the other days, where PK or Nealer spearheads a mostly-complete collection of Preds to a bar. The Canadians sometimes have their own group table while Pekka gets to be responsible for everyone else. 

At some point, Pekka counts heads and he comes up short. This shouldn't be a problem, mostly, but well, it's Juuse. He heads out while PK calls for another round of beers, and well, he looks around. 

It's not that hard. Juuse doesn't quite know how to dress himself without bright colors involved. The place isn't that big, and Pekka maneuvers around a group of women having a bachelorette party, if the colorful tiaras with tiny penises on them are any indication. 

Juuse's near a bar, talking to someone, or rather, being talked at. Pekka sighs. This always happens. He shakes his head, but he doesn't stop his approach. 

 

It really shouldn't have become a regular thing, but well, _it keeps happening_. 

 

The guys had gotten their laughs in the first time this happened. They were in California, on a road trip, and Calle, halfway to being drunk enough that someone needed to watch to switch his drinks, asked Pekka: "Where'd your rookie go?" 

And well, Juuse is Pekka's rookie. He can't deny it. He took him in, and Juuse still came around for food or chatter some days. And he's nowhere to be seen, so that was a small concern. Pekka took a small search party, if three people could be called a search party. 

It turns out Juuse wasn't quite missing, but he did have his "I don't speak English" face on, while a guy talked with his hands at him. The other guy was about Juuse's height and had a terrible Hawaiian shirt on. 

"Juuse!" And maybe that was irritation in his voice, but it got his attention. 

Juuse looked away from whatever conversation he was having, looked up towards them and smiled a smile that Pekka realized was obviously fake. Cheerful, but fake. In frantic Finnish, he said, "Oh fuck, thank you." 

"Juuse, is everything fine?" asked Pekka. He motioned Nealer and Arvy to stand back for a moment, but they were a trio of three hockey players, and the guy that was talking to Juuse stopped talking. 

Arvy inched closer to Juuse, and he did his best impression of impassive. 

"He's not taking no for an answer," Juuse said, exasperated. "It's the worst." 

"You know this guy?" Hawaiian shirt asked. "I bet I'm more fun." 

Nealer replied in the only language he knows, terrible jokes: "I think Peks said it's past your bedtime." 

Pekka felt eyes on him. Juuse turned his lip up and asked in English, "Daddy, is it?" in a perfectly petulant tone of voice, and there's no doubt he's talking to Pekka, if there ever was any.

"Only a little," and Pekka tries to be amused, but inside, he wonders at Juuse's improvising, a little, but it's no worse than having to make the save when Nealer does something dumb on the ice, so he says, "Let's go, and I'll forgive you." 

Hawaiian shirt chokes into his drink, and he's mercifully silent when they leave with Juuse. 

Because Nealer is loud and needed to reassert his nature, he managed to tell the whole story before Pekka could get a word in. It sunk in very quickly, and then the table started laughing for a good fifteen seconds. It could have gone worse, but Eks had said, 'Well, I guess that's smart. I wouldn't fuck with Pekka' and started an argument about what that meant. Pekka should have been complimented, if this hadn't devolved into making a list of best fighters on the team to the least. 

 

"Does it bother you?" Pekka asks, a different time, after getting away from someone who wore sunglasses indoors . (Juuse bit his lip, said, "Daddy, what took you so long?" and Pekka had a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, but they got away, at least. )

"It's annoying," Juuse says. He's not drunk, exactly, but he's not sober either. Pekka's not going to give him shit for leaning against his shoulder. "But I can't blame them for trying. As long as they back off, and most of them do." 

"Yes, that." Pekka tucks away the information that Juuse gets hit on much more than Pekka saves him, which he should have known, but a part of him doesn't like dealing with the possibility. "But using me to get you out of that. Does it bother you?" 

"No." Juuse blinks, like it hadn't occured to him to be bothered. "Why would it?" 

Well, so maybe the jokes are good for one thing, at least. Pekka doesn't startle when Juuse calls him Daddy, which would give them up, maybe. 

 

So they're stuck with that, but it also means that when someone can't find Juuse, they tell Pekka to deal with it, like he has a tracker on him or something.

 

Pekka really doesn't like to dwell on the implications of Juuse calling him 'Daddy'. Mostly, it's for his own sanity. The guys he has to chase off get one specific image of them, but it's not the one where Juuse mumbles, "Thanks, Daddy," on Pekka's couch, mostly asleep when Pekka moves a pillow in range of Juuse's grasp. It's more in the lines of a stray thought about Juuse's smile, what Juuse would sound like flushed and exhausted from exertion. Pekka's good at compartmentalizing. One of these is real, and the other one isn't. 

 

A different road trip, and Juuse looks up to him through his eyelashes while he says, almost _shyly_ , if Juuse was capable of such a thing, "Daddy, where'd you go?" like he'd missed Pekka, if it was even possible to miss someone you saw almost every day. 

Pekka shamefully swallows a lump in his throat. It's pretend, but Pekka puts on a grin as he holds out his hand, and Juuse takes it. He lets go almost as fast. 

 

They have a hockey game to play, still. So they do. They win. 

 

It should be a little thing. It's no different than any of the other times. Juuse calls him Daddy slightly less than using Pekka's own name, and it seems to taper off, a little, but there's always another time. It's as easy for Juuse as, "Do you know where the white tape is, Daddy?" or some teammate's playful "I'm telling Pekka" about something inane followed by, "I didn't do anything, Daddy; they're just mean." 

But every time, now, Pekka can't stop thinking about how Juuse looked in that moment. 

So the right thing to do is stop putting himself in that situation, and they can figure out someone else to save Juuse when he's accosted. There could be someone else who can just laugh about this with him afterwards. The adult thing to do is tell Juuse first, probably, and he shouldn't take that badly. Pekka can't do this anymore, and there's always the specter of his contract over them both, and Juuse would think it was a little funny and fun while it lasted.

It's really Pekka's own problem. 

 

Now that they get recognized more in Nashville, Juuse doesn't have his particular problem so much, but it does happen sometimes. 

"I really hope that doesn't get to anyone," Juuse says, after they get to his apartment, the realization that they're at home, playing in a city that wants to succeed sinking in. "Not that they'd believe a random guy. Probably." 

That's the line of thought that could get Pekka out of this, honestly.

"We really need to find a different way to deal with this." Pekka shakes his head as the door closes behind him. "I don't know why we put up with this for so long." 

They wipe their shoes on the mat, and in the silence, there's a note of finality about it. That was easier than Pekka thought, honestly. The most painful part is working up to it. 

He doesn't expect Juuse to say, "It was nice to pretend." Juuse sounds a little wistful. "And that's what they expected to see, not that it was real." 

Juuse lets out the smallest of sighs. Pekka feels like he's been hit over the head; spelled out like that, It dawns on Pekka that he could let this moment pass, but at the same time, he's never really allowed himself to think about this possiblity. That he could--

"Juuse." Juuse looks up, probably thinking it was a chastisement. Pekka cups Juuse's cheek, and he looks into Juuse's clear blue eyes, and he swallows a lump in his throat. He leans in, and Juuse cranes up into the kiss. Juuse tastes like some of his favorite chewing gum. It's a long moment between them both. Juuse's hand clutches in the fabric of Pekka's shirt when they break apart. 

"Really?" Juuse says, incredulous and out of breath. "That's what it took?" 

"I'm an old man, Juuse. I need it spelt out for me." He can't quite look Juuse in the face right now. 

Juuse purses his lip, and his expression is only charitably called pouting. He can only whine, "I call you Daddy all the time. I figured if you liked that sort of thing, you'd let me know." 

Or stop it if it bothered him. Pekka can fill in the blanks. 

"I try to be better than that," Pekka says, which probably is an admittal. It probably sent out one kind of message that he let it go on that long without saying something. He probably should have stopped that, honestly, but by the time the team started joking about it, there was no letting that cat back into the bag. 

"Huh," Juuse looks thoughtful. He runs his tongue over his teeth. He looks up at Pekka through his eyelashes, and he says, "Daddy, you don't have to be." 

It's clearly put upon. Still, Pekka has to laugh nervously for a bit, and the little nervous flutter in his stomach doesn't quiet down at all. Pekka's always had a hard time saying no to Juuse. It took a while to see that Juuse was asking, but Pekka leans down for another kiss. 

Juuse's keyed up when they end back in his room, and Pekka is mostly along for the ride. He struggles with the buttons on Pekka's shirt, and Pekka's not inclined to stop him, in all honesty. He does say, " Maybe we should get to bed first?" as more of a suggestion. Juuse manages to dump all of his own clothes on the floor and get Pekka's shirt undone before Pekka quite realizes it, on the way to the bed. That's a good skill, he idly thinks. 

Nudity is not a novelty; Juuse's lean and muscular, nothing that Pekka hasn't seen in the locker room or the occasional sauna. Pekka still runs a hand over as much skin as he can reach, kissing moles as he finds them. It still feels different, but that's mostly because of Juuse's mostly-hard cock. It reacts positively when Pekka wraps a hand around it. Pekka pulls every sound he can through Juuse's dick. Pekka has one hand down his own pants when Juuse's hand curls into the sheets. 

"I'd think it'd be hot," Juuse pants, a little on edge. "If you came on me." 

"Now?" Pekka asks because Juuse makes a little whimper when Pekka twists his hand over Juuse's dick just _like that_. Pekka stills his hand, just for the moment. Juuse nods, and Pekka lets go of Juuse's dick, but he presses a kiss to Juuse's shoulder first. 

Pekka takes the moment to take off his pants and shuck off his shirt. The air is suddenly cool against Pekka's back. Juuse repositions himself between Pekka's legs, and Pekka must look a little confused but Juuse puts a hand on Pekka's cock, and he says, "This is for me, right, Daddy?" 

The moment's burned into Pekka's memory. Pekka's cock twitches, and he should have no shame about that, not when Juuse looks at Pekka with his eyes like that, the picture of want on his face, mouth slightly open as he lets out a small needy sound. Pekka groans, and Juuse's breath over his cock is such a tease. "You said, you--" 

"Yeah, my face," he says, and Pekka can almost imagine it, how hot he'd look striped with Pekka's come over his face. It distracts him; he doesn't see the exact moment Juuse takes the tip of Pekka's cock into his mouth, but he sure can feel it. Pekka tries to stay still, at least for a few moments, but he finds his hand resting on the back of Juuse's neck, and then he's fucking into Juuse's mouth, and Pekka can barely comprehend what he's saying, but some of it is embarrassing like, "Daddy's cock is all yours, fuck."

Pekka can feel every sound Juuse makes around his cock, and it's really not long before he's close, and Juuse must know somehow, but Pekka can only vaguely register the noises out of his own throat, and then he finishes partway through a thrust, but Juuse digs his nails into Pekka's thigh and pulls back, and Pekka's come splatters over Juuse's cheek and chin.

Juuse smiles, clearly out of breath. Pekka thinks he is too, but before long, Juuse mouths up against Pekka's abs, and Juuse's stradding Pekka before Pekka quite comes down from his orgasm. Juuse's still hard between them, but all Pekka finds himself doing is lazily rolling his hips up and running a hand down Juuse's back. Juuse ruts against Pekka's abs until he spills, slumping with his weight on Pekka's thighs. He murmurs, "So much better than jerking off," against the side of Pekka's neck. Pekka wonders if that's in general or if that's what he does after he calls Pekka Daddy in public. He files that away for a different time, now coaxing Juuse to a more comfortable position, and Pekka's not surprised at all that Juuse's a cuddler. 

The looseness of Pekka's orgasm and the warmth of Juuse against him make him drift off pretty fast, so he can't really even object to that part. 

 

Juuse makes him coffee in the morning, brings it to Pekka with a small smile, and well, Pekka can't object to that part, either. 

 

This doesn't stop guys trying to get into Juuse's pants, but it is immensely more enjoyable when Pekka comes to retrieve him. 

 

"Hey." Pekka comes up to where the guy's trying to hold up Juuse; the guy is generic, dark haired, with a neck tattoo that Brent Burns would approve of. He pauses slightly at Pekka's approach. Pekka hands Juuse his cup, which he takes. He puts a hand on Juuse's shoulder, casually possessive, and Juuse leans a little towards Pekka. "Who's your new friend?" 

The guy looks up in the middle of his sentence, trying to size Pekka up, and Pekka stands up a little straighter. 

"Thanks, Daddy." Juuse smiles up at Pekka, and he knows the score by now. It's as natural as him saying it in any other context. "This is--" 

"Dave," the guy says, looking a little like he wants to die. Pekka pulls out the toothy grin; he's probably not going to be one of the brazen ones who go on to ask for a threesome. 

"Right, and he was telling me about his band." 

"I play bass," he offers, along with some name of some place Pekka's never heard of. 

Pekka asks Juuse, "Did you get lost? We're over there," and Pekka gestures vaguely to where their team is. It's a good moment to start making their way back. 

"It was nice talking to you," Juuse says. Pekka grabs Juuse's hand and leads him away.

They avoid a couple of clumsy drunk people stepping on their shoes, and Juuse lets go of Pekka's free hand when they're five meters or so away from one of the tables they've commandeered.

"Hey, they're back," Jos says, and they all scoot in to make room for Pekka and Juuse. "Everything okay?" 

"I had to go rescue Juuse again." Pekka rolls his eyes, but it's mostly put-upon rather than frustrated. The other feeling, the little curl of possessiveness he feels in his chest, well, that's only for Juuse to know. 

Most of the guys nod. It happens. 

"Rescue?" Eeli asks. 

"It's amazing how fast a guy stops hitting on you when someone two meters tall comes up, and you call him Daddy," Juuse says in Finnish, for Eeli's benefit. Well, Eeli hasn't been here long, but he's been here long enough that he's already heard the dad jokes. 

"It happens a lot," someone adds. 

At his puzzled look, Miikka leans over and murmurs an explanation, and Eeli blinks rapidly at whatever Miikka's saying, and Pekka really doesn't want to have to pull this rookie aside and have a talk. After, Miikka chirps to the rest of them, "I blame Juuse's dancing, personally." 

Juuse tries not to look insulted but fails. "Oh, and thanks for rescuing me," Juuse says, downing the cup before settling into the space between Pekka and Arvy. He blinks. "That's really water." 

"If you wanted free drinks, I could have left you with that guy," Pekka says, but he lets Juuse crowd into his personal space anyway. 

The table stops thinking about it when Filip just starts laughing like a mad man. He gestures over to the bar. "Oh man, did that girl throw a drink on Hartsy?" 

Pekka looks over. Hartsy looks a bit wet and disgruntled, so it may be true. The girl, mostly long dark hair and long legs, walks away. 

"No game at all," Eks concludes. "Should someone help him?" 

"Ah, leave him," Juuse says. He leans into Pekka a little more, puts his hand on his thigh. 

Pekka shakes his head, and he tries to hide a small smile. "I have enough on my plate with Juuse."


End file.
